The Misadventures of Karina and Daemon

S i l e n c eI sB a c k . (K)

I grudgingly munch the tuna sandwich while staring at my phone. I wish Thalia is back now. I'd rather have her loud mouth than have that intruder by my side all day long. That lady in the front desk is probably his cohorts. Their job is pestering people. I don't hate her. And he's so angelic to be hated also. I would love them under other circumstances but not while I want to be alone. I understand that they're a couple that needs to do their living. But hell, I want to live too. Of course, I could have a choice. Transfer to another hotel or beach. This island has a number of hotels and small nipa cottages. But I figure out that if they have that rule here, then probably it's the same on others. Why fuss. I have to concede and ignore him. He'll be my gofer after all. Not my guide.

I have changed my red one-piece with a stripe black and white mini top. They crisscross in the front up to the back, covering only my breasts and some flesh near that part. My high-waist shorts start an inch from my mini top and end just below my thigh. I know my meaty buttock will be exposed a little and I coudn't care less. I try my floral hat with wide brim and pose in front of the body-mirror. All is well. I whispered in my reflection and wink.

I was startled by the knock on the door. I check my watch, eight-fortyfive. Two and a half hours ago I left this room and promise to be back just before the sun rise again. Now, I'm back and changed because my tour guide has business to attend to before he attends to me. Yea. He's the one paying me here. He knocks again.

"I'm coming!" I yelled on the door. I sat on the bed and put on my sandal's straps with all the time in the world. I clutch my bag and don my RayBan unhurriedly. Then I open the door after 5-mintue run-through with my laptop.

He's leaning opposite my wall, back in his affable face again. If he's irked with my dilly-dally, it's not obvious. He's clad in his khaki jeans pleated just above his ankle, a white V-neck shirt and a native sandals-made of abaca plant. He got his shades hanging in his shirt. Typical beach bum.

"Ready?" he said in huge, warm smile.

"Let's go." I said rather standoffish. I swaggered towards the elevator with the flair of a Miss U.

"You know where we're going?" he asked outside the elevator.

"You're the tour guide right?"

"I just thought you already have seen some places in the brochure." The empty elevator opened and we enter. I didn't say anything. This is a huge elevator but it looks like we are 10 in the room. He's staring at my reflection and I stare back, then something happened and we both look away. Him to the right. Me to the left. Yet we still see each other's eyes. Great. We turn to the floor. I almost groan. Is this even legal? God. The owner's fetish to mirrors is incredibly insane! I heard him stiffle a smile and realize I just voice my sentiments. Thankfully the elevator opened. I step out and meet by Miss O'Pretty. Her smile is contagious.

"Hi!" she beamed. I just noticed that she's wearing a stripe blue and green 2-piece. It wrap tightly on her big bust. Her skin depicts a girl who had a great time living in this island. Perfect tan. My skin is quiet brownish brought about by my 8 years of staying in this country. And I'm proud of it.

"Hi." I said returning her smile. Damon eases out behind my back.

"Hi Dee!" she greet tossing him a key. "Have an awesome day." she said to both of us. I just smiled at her no-teeth.

We walk towards the entrance. The beach already sprung to life. Daddies in their beach shorts carrying colorful life buoys warily chase their youngsters towards the ocean. Black, white, brown, yellow people stroll around. Couples teasing, laughing, running, cuddling spread around. A bunch of maybe between 16-18 years old enter Salvatore full of excitement. Their faces are beaming.